deepundergroundpoetry.com

Your Thorn

Love, gemstone which bleeds
Purrs like a virus
Without solution

Rust flowered in weeds
Moreish divergent
You are pollution

Flushed remains of me
Wash me, bitter end
Sunrise, rise again
Rotting confusion

Stillness grasps the air
In sickness now bound
As fair as black seas
As cold as dark needs
Your thorn as you breathe
Grant me conclusion.
Written by Fishmander
Published
Author's Note
Thank you for reading.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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